


Something's Up

by cosmicthief



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Dudes Being Bros, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, it's weed because that bong has use, with dumb feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicthief/pseuds/cosmicthief
Summary: Something's up, and one way or another, we're getting to the bottom of this.
OR
"Three times Sam and Sebastian almost kissed and one time they did."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yes hello I'm in Stardew Valley hell and I love these sappy dorks. Comments, kudos, etc.... all appreciated! I decided to post this now because I have to have something to keep me up until the midnight release of Pokemon, right?

**I.**

Abigail  _ knows _ that something’s up, which is weird, because this is Pelican Town, and  _ nothing _ is  _ ever _ up. That’s why she, Sam, and Sebastian formed their little mischief trio in the first place. They’re the ones that make things  _ up _ .  _ Together _ .

Which is why she’s just a  _ little _ angry that Sebastian and Sam are off on their own, bringing the things in the town up without her. It’s a bitter betrayal, one that makes her scowl when she sees then avoiding her gaze, and then each other’s, and then repeat. There’s something there, something that most  _ definitely _ wasn’t there a year ago, or six months ago, so  _ when did it start showing up? _

Because now, as they sit on the end of the dock, the moonlight shining on the jellies breezing past, Sebastian and Sam are  _ together _ . Sitting on the same edge, almost touching, watching the end of summer go by. Normally, Abigail would hear Sam whine right about now— something about how summer went by too fast. And then she would hear Sebastian muse about how winter’s right around the corner, and how that’s cool. And then she would hear Sam scold Sebastian.

But this time? Nothing. They just sit there, silent, as she watches from her own side of the dock, trying to make sense of it. Well, not  _ completely _ silent, because they’re murmuring to each other, but she can’t make out what they’re saying, even over the current of the water.

The boys turn to each other, and a fatal moment of hesitance hits her. This feels  _ intimate _ all of a sudden, like she needs to look away, but Abigail was always the curious one, the one who kept looking. And she keeps looking, as their eyes lock, dart around, before— 

“Like the show?”

She squeaks, turning red as Sam laughs. “What  _ show _ ? You two aren’t doing anything!”

Sebastian shrugs. “You were still watching.”

_ Traitor _ .

So Abigail turns her attention back to the beautiful jellyfish, completely unaware of how both boys have gone a terrible shade of pink.

* * *

**II.**

Something’s up with Sam. That’s not new— Sam’s hair is  _ always _ up, for example, and Sebastian takes great pleasure in pointing that out, if only to hear Sam give a half-assed quip right back about how he  _ doesn’t look like Goku, man, get better material _ even if he  _ totally _ looks like Goku and there’s no better material than that. It’s their routine, their act, but lately, their act has gone a little…  _ off _ .

Like how at practice, when Sebastian’s trying to work out chords on the keyboard, things get  _ really _ quiet, and when he looks up, he meets Sam’s slightly startled gaze, and he’s unable to read what exactly is on the other’s face. Something confused, vulnerable, and maybe a little bit wishful.

He blinks. Sam blinks back. And they go back to their instruments.

But there’s still that  _ tension _ , something bubbling and boiling between them, and part of Sebastian wants to check is Sam’s staring again, because if he is, he has grounds to tease him for it. And then Sam will blush, huff, and make up some excuse about looking at his ear because  _ dude, something’s wrong with it _ even though there’s nothing in Seb’s ears and Sam was definitely not staring at his ear.

Warm hands pass over his own on the keyboard, and Sebastian jumps, grey eyes flashing up to meet Sam’s green ones. They stare over the keyboard. It’s killing him.

“You okay, bro?”

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t doing anything.”

“You weren’t, either.” And for some reason, Sebastian feels a twinge of disappointment at that.

* * *

**III.**

Sam can’t tell which way is up.

Well, he  _ can _ , because he’s sitting up right now, but as he flies high on the drafts of Sebastian’s stash, he feels like anything is possible, and anything  _ has _ been possible, and he can  _ do _ anything, and—

“Woah,” he says, giggly, like he always does after they take the first hit. For some reason, it always feels the same, but different. An extended cut, something he hasn’t seen yet.

Exhibit A: the look Sebastian’s giving him.

“Y’know, there’s a better way to get high.”

Sam doesn’t know why the curl to those words makes him prickle. He doesn’t know a lot of things, right now. “And what’s that?”

That’s how he finds Sebastian in front of him, close,  _ so terribly close _ , and were his eyes always this pretty and grey? Did his hair always look like it was made of soft crow feathers? Did Sam always want to know if it  _ felt _ like feathers, too?

“C’mere,” Sebastian murmurs, and Sam watches the way his lips curve around the words with all the devotion of a man at the altar. He licks his own lips, nervous for no reason he can name, and he can’t tear his eyes away from that mouth, even when Sebastian reaches to take another hit, breathing in deep, before leaning forward even  _ more _ , smoke breathed into the space between them, and he wants to go forward, to get more, to say  _ yes, yes, I want this _ , to get higher than fucking high with Sebastian right there beside him, and he  _ knows _ he'll like this, but his eyes are closed and he’s waiting and waiting and  _ waiting—  _

And Sebastian makes a little confused noise, then leans back, and Sam makes his own little confused noise.

“I can’t do this,” Sebastian mutters, looking down as if he’s talking to himself. “Not high. Not the first one.”

And Sam goes straight back to knowing nothing yet again.

* * *

**+I.**

It’s the flower dance, and they’re both stuck in those damn stuffy outfits, waiting to dance with a pretty girl and fulfill tradition, when Sam taps Sebastian’s wrist with no small hint of urgency.

“Follow me,” he says.

So they sneak past Lewis, Sam leading Sebastian by the wrist, and Sebastian’s more than a little confused, because they haven’t had a  _ talk _ in a while, not since— not since the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. Not since Abigail had seen them, and they’d both been scared out of it.

It seems like Sam’s done being scared, though, because he takes Sebastian’s other wrist, and he’s burning red, words stuttering out in a hesitant rush— one of the worst paradoxes Sebastian’s ever witnessed.

“Dance with me.”

Sebastian’s eyes go wide, and he blinks. He doesn’t realize he’s said  _ yes _ already until Sam’s shoulders slump with relief.

They hands find each other, and it’s so much more than when they were kids, it feels like their hands have grown around the curves of each other, ready for this moment, waiting to connect again, and they feel so  _ high _ now. 

The music wafts in from the clearing— apparently the dance started without them. Maybe Penny and Abigail are dancing with each other this year, since their partners are mysteriously missing. Sebastian’s never been the best dancer, but neither has Sam. Their feet find their way eventually, as they always do, because they’ve done this for  _ years _ now, just with different people. People who didn’t feel  _ right _ .

They’re dancing even when the music stops, and the chatter from the festival starts up again as people begin the cleanup. They’re dancing quietly, Sam biting his lip in concentration because  _ dammit _ , he wants to get this right, Sebastian too busy wishing he had actually done something with his hair today to actually notice said lip-biting.

It’s a slow, mellow beat they find their way to, and when Sam’s done freaking out over it, it’s actually  _ fine. _ They flow like water.

He looks up, and Sebastian has this open, vulnerable look to his face, something so pure and rare that Sam wants to memorize it forever. He doesn’t realize he’s leaned in until he feels warm lips against his own, and Sebastian’s not pulling away.

(As if he would ever pull away. He’s been waiting for months.)

That last note about Sebastian’s expression is totally lost, because Sam’s eyes are closed, and all he wants to memorize is the feeling of  _ this _ , how the kiss feels like it’s the birth of something so very new and scary and right and  _ fantastic _ .

And when they pull away, they’re blushing, Sam more than Seb, and Sebastian snickers and goes in for another one.


End file.
